


Riddle Me This

by Darkling_Thrush



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: BDSM, F/F, F/M, Multi, Rape, Threesome - F/F/M, Torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-11
Updated: 2013-02-13
Packaged: 2017-11-28 23:03:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,837
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/679864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darkling_Thrush/pseuds/Darkling_Thrush
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Little is known of those Tom kept close to himself while he was at school...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. 1

It was a grey day in February. Well, most days in February tended to be grey. It was, in the opinion of Delaena Hartwood, the bleakest of all months. She looked up from the book she was reading, some poorly written dime-store thing Linda Sorrel had bought in Hogsmeade some months back, and scanned the Slytherin Common Room.

Now in her sixth year, the ginger-haired young woman had long since gotten over the eerie sickliness the green lanterns seemed to cast over the faces of her housemates. In fact, she could not imagine them any other way, most of the time. When they did emerge from the dungeons, in the yellow or gold, warm lights, they looked unnatural. She was certain she was not the only person who had that opinion, but had not spoken it aloud too often.

There was a group of boys, sitting near the fire. Oh, of course. Riddle's gang. Delaena couldn't resist the tugging upwards at the corners of her mouth. It was amazing how that boy – well, man now. He was, after all, in his seventh year – seemed to attract all sorts of fellows. Of course, he would not disdain to spend so much of his time with anyone other than one of his own house, and a pureblood at that. And so, the small sofa and armchairs surrounding the fire were almost always reserved for them. She watched them guffawing at some joke or another, while Riddle himself leaned languidly against the back of the sofa. He didn't ever really seem to be too interested in what they had to say. She suspected he simply liked the sycophantic attention. And who wouldn't? A fan club to escort you to your next class, carry your books, fill your plate, wipe your ass...

Well, perhaps that was a bit harsh. With a snap, Delaena shut the trashy little novel and passed it back to Linda. “That's brilliant literature,” she said, with no shortage of sarcasm. 

“What?” Linda protested. “I like the imagery. Don't you want a wizard who will sweep you off your feet and make you feel like a princess?”

Delaena rolled her eyes. “No, not really. I want a man who will push me up against a wall and make me feel like a woman.” She grinned as the uncomfortable blush flooded her friend's face. “Laena... you shouldn't say such things...”

“No, Laena, you shouldn't.” The voice had come from so close behind her that Delaena jumped. Behind her was Tom. “You really should be careful what you wish for,” he continued, hands tucked into his pockets. How had he managed to detach from his followers and get behind her without her noticing? “And watch your language in my common room.”

“I'm sorry, Head Boy. I hadn't realise I'd committed such a vile offence, speaking my mind. Or is it still taboo for a woman to do so?” She raised her hands in mock apology. Tom smirked. Something glittered in his dark eyes, and she couldn't tell if it was amusement or... something worse.

“No, no, Miss Hartwood. Speak your mind all you like. Just don't do it where you can corrupt well-bred students younger than yourself.”

At this, Delaena squared her shoulders, turning to face him straight on. Linda, looking terrified and almost whimpering in her chair, was forgotten. “As you well know, I am a pureblooded Slytherin.” Her voice was quiet, a challenge – she did not need to explain that point. “However, I will not be held accountable for the corruption of innocence. Not so loudly, at least.”

The two stared each other down for a moment, unspeaking. Tom's boys were watching from behind him, clearly unsure of whether they should stand and draw their wands. “As I said,” Tom said with a calm smile, that odd amusement still glinting in his eyes, “be careful what you wish for.”

And then he was gone, back to his peons. Delaena exhaled a deep breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding, and sank into her seat. “Laena, you shouldn't take him on like that!” Linda hissed, this time in a whisper. “Don't you know what he can do? He's the top of his class! He's Head Boy! He's-” “He's the bloody golden boy of Hogwarts, I know, Linda.” Delaena rolled her eyes. “I just don't like being talked down to. You know that.”

She leaned back in her seat, glancing over her shoulder one last time at Riddle. He was back in his position on the couch, listening to a younger blonde boy chatter with a look of very fake interest. A moment later, his eyes were locked with her green ones, and he smiled. She raised an eyebrow, and looked away.

 

“Valentine's is only two weeks away. Have anybody in mind?” Linda asked that evening at supper. Delaena rolled her eyes. “Please. You ask every other week, you know I don't have my eye on anyone. If somebody wants to ask, sure. Whatever. But I'm not going out of my way to make some fancy stupid spell or little pink heart-shaped card for a boy who I probably won't speak to a week later.” She knew that Linda, with her fashionable blonde pageboy haircut and dazzling blue eyes, already had several cards – and the 'big day' was still two weeks to come. “Are your pockets bursting, yet, with cards and chocolate?” Linda scoffed. “Only that one Ravenclaw boy gave me any chocolate, you know that. And no, my pockets aren't bursting. Merlin's beard, Laena, anyone would think you hate the idea of romance!”

Delaena was busy loading her plate. “Romance is a silly idea put into the heads of women so that they think that marriage is actually for them, when really it's for their parents and the use of their reproductive organs,” she said matter-of-factly. “You know very well that I don't believe in it. Love is a release of chemicals to the brain, sending signals to let two people know that they want to mate. It's pure lust. Animal instinct.” Linda stared at her, jaw hanging. “Oh, do close your mouth, dear, you look like a bass.” Her friend snapped her mouth shut indignantly. “I do hope you made that all up.”

She laughed, and shook her head, turning her attention back to her plate. Finally, with Linda stunned into momentary silence, she could have a chance to eat...

“E-excuse me, Miss Hartwood?”

Biting back a groan, Delaena set down her fork again, which had only been inches away from her mouth. She turned to see a chubby sandy-haired boy, wearing Hufflepuff robes. She recognised him from her Divinations class- Anthony Blake. “I- I have this... if you'd... well... erm...” He held something out to her- a card.

With one raised eyebrow, Delaena reached forward and took the offering. On the outside, in red letters, it read 'Be Mine'. Opening it, several heart-shaped bubbled floated into the air. Beside her, Linda gave a little squeal. “You don't have to tell me right away, or at all, or... But... There you go!” She looked up at Anthony and bit the inside of her cheek. “Erm... thanks. I'll... get back to you...” A sharp elbow was in her ribs, and she cringed. Linda had very bony elbows.

The boy smiled at her and went back to his table, and she turned back around. “Good gods,” she muttered, looking at the pale pink paper. “It's so sweet!” Linda cooed, snatching it right out of Laena's fingers and opening it, watching as the bubbles rose again. They gave off a faint scent of soap. “Yeah, too bad he's a Hufflepuff. I don't much care for them. He's pretty dim, too. Must've had one of his friends charm it.” She finally got a few mouthfuls of food. “Well, you know, if nobody else asks you...”

Linda was looking at her with wide porcelain-doll eyes. 

“If nobody asks me?” Delaena swallowed her food. “If nobody else asks me, I'll do without and spend the day with a good book – that is, one of my own.” And despite Linda's attempts, she would say no more about it.

 

Their first class the next morning was Potions, and Linda was running behind. “Hurry up, you twit!” Delaena called from the bottom of the stairs to the dormitories. “We can only be late so many times before Slughorn stops loving us!” 

“You know that's not true,” Linda said with a laugh as she darted down the stairs, a green scarf tied round her neck. “What, got a hickey?” Delaena teased. “Do not! It's called fashion. You should try it.”

They ran down the halls, barely making it in behind the rest of their classmates before the door was closed. Quickly, Laena took her seat at her cauldron, opening her book and laying her wand neatly beside it. Professor Slughorn started telling them some story about his youth, which she was sure was related in some roundabout way to the potion they would be brewing. She was right. Finally, after much reminiscing about days gone by, they were given a page number. She read over the potion. Between the two of them, she and Linda would have no problems with it.

Delaena started gathering the ingredients, and set herself on grinding porcupine quills into a fine dust in her marble mortar – a gift from her grandmother, under the condition that she had been sorted into Slytherin. Linda focused herself on the potion itself, finally shutting her mouth and proving that she was more than just a pretty face. Laena prepared the ingredients. She had always been very precise about measurements and such, and therefore when one of her potions went wrong, it was almost always to do with the brewing itself. Easy mistakes to make, of course, and Delaena would never gloat. At least, not so anybody could see.

Slughorn was doing his rounds, telling some students how proud he was and clucking his tongue at others. “Ah! The inseparable duo! Quite a pair, you two, quite a pair! And what a lovely shade of blue!” He leaned over the cauldron just as Linda was dropping in a pinch or dried billywig stings. “Sometimes I wonder if I should pair you two up with other students, just to see what would happen.” His eyes twinkled merrily. “You'd better not, Professor,” Linda said earnestly. “I think I'm the only person in this whole school who can put up with Delaena.” The ginger glared at the blonde, but the round man chuckled pleasantly. “Oh, it's an endearing trait, my dear! Such spirit! Such vitality!” He was already waddling off to the next team, still going on about Delaena's 'spirit'. “I'll get you for that,” she said under her breath. “I'm sure you will, Laenie. I'm sure.”

 

After Potions, Linda ran off to Muggle Studies. Delaena still couldn't understand why she was quite so fascinated by them. She had a free period, so she headed for the library, taking the long way to see if any of the paintings had any new developments.

“Miss Hartwood, where are you supposed to be?”

She turned, flashing Tom a smile. “Oh, my! You mean you don't know every little detail about me, after all?” He smiled back, those dark eyes brighter out of the greenish hue of the common room. “Now, now, Miss Hartwood. You don't have anyone to impress tagging about, and nor do I. So let's cut down on the sour attitude, mm?”

She was surprised. So that really was just an act for his gang of buffoons? Perhaps he wasn't a complete prat, after all. “I don't have class right now. I'm headed to the library for some reading.” Tom nodded. “I heard Anthony Blake asked you to be his Valentine.” Laena laughed aloud. “So you do know everything! Yes, he did. Not that it's any of your business.”

“And?”

“And? And what? And it was a lovely card.”

“And?” Tom's expression hadn't changed.

“And he's a nice boy, I'm sure, but really not my type. It was a sweet gesture.” Tom took a step closer. “So you won't be accepting his proposal.” It wasn't exactly a question. Delaena rolled her eyes. “For the brightest lad of your generation, you really do need quite a lot spelled out for you, don't you? No. I will not be his Valentine.”

“Good.” He reached into the pocket of his robe and retrieved a plain white paper card, holding it out to her. “What's this?” she said, reaching for it. “Tom Riddle, believing in such silly things as Valentine's Day?” She opened the card. The soft smell of violets seemed to rise up out of it, and faint strains of an orchestra. In elegant black script read,

'Join me in the common room at 6 in the evening on 14, February, and be Mine.'

She raised an eyebrow. It was subtle, but just enough to really pique her interests. Meeting his gaze, she was silent for a few moments before speaking. “The attire will be formal. Please wear something... fashionable.” The other eyebrow joined the first. “Well?”

Delaena licked her lips. “I'll be there,” she said, without another thought. “Good.” And with that, the Head Boy was back on his rounds, as if nothing had happened.

She stood there, baffled, for several moments. “Oooh, the gel's love-stricken!” A crone in a painting across from her cackled, raising her skirts to bare her ankles and doing a little jig. Delaena snapped out of her daze and cleared her throat, making her way to the library at a much quicker pace than originally intended.

 

Delaena was forced to wait to tell Linda her shocking news until after supper, when they were in the dormitories. She knew her friend would make a scene, and didn't need everyone in the Great Hall to know about Riddle's offer, or that she accepted. She was sure he wouldn't appreciate an outburst like that either.

All during the meal, she was nearly silent, speaking only in short one- or two-word sentences. Linda noticed something was going on, and shut up quickly. The whole time, her eyes kept drifting back to that cluster of Slytherin boys. How did he breathe in there? Did they simply hover around, taking turns at who got to be the closest, who got to sit at his right, or did someone earn that spot?

She noticed Professor Dumbledore was watching him, too. She would not have been at all surprised if he had been the professor to help him with the card, except that neither of the two men seemed overly fond of the other, from what she had heard. Dumbledore was the only professor in the whole school who didn't treat Tom like a prodigy. She could see how that would grate on the boy's nerves.

When they were back in the Common Room, Linda practically dragged Delaena upstairs. “Alright, talk. What was that about? You usually at least humour me at supper, and tonight you were absolutely stone silent! Something's wrong. What happened? Did you get a bad letter from home? Is it your grandmother?” Delaena pulled her wrist away, glancing around to see if any other girls had decided to come in yet. “Grandmama is fine, and no, nothing's wrong.”

“Then what?”

“If you would let me speak, I'd tell you!” She took a deep breath. “On my way to the library this morning, Tom Riddle asked me to be his Valentine.”

Linda stared at her. “Tom Riddle? As in our Tom? As in Head Boy, the one nobody has ever seem with a woman? The one who never shows any real sign of happiness or emotion?” “Oh, come on, he's not that bad-” “So you said yes!”

Delaena flinched and shushed her friend. “Did you say yes?” Linda pressed. Laena pulled the card from her pocket and handed it to her. Her friend read it, mouthing the words. “Wait- violets. Aren't they your favourite flower?” Delaena nodded. “And your middle name is Violet... How did he know?” 

“He knows everything about everyone. And yes. I said yes.”

There was a moment of silence before Linda let out a stifled squeal of joy. “Linda?” Delaena interrupted her rejoicing, sitting on the edge of the bed. She hesitated, and swallowed her pride. “It's formal. I don't really have much... would you... help me?”

There was no stifling the next squeal that came from Linda's pretty pink mouth, so Laena walloped her with a feather pillow.


	2. 2

On the thirteenth, Delaena was having doubts. She kept seeing Tom, especially in the Common Room, and she kept feeling that there was something... off about him. She couldn't place it. She was probably just having jitters. And who could blame her? It wouldn't be her first date, certainly, but at sixteen and with her views on romance, the most she had done was dinner with some boy her parents had tried to set her up with, out of hope of building a grand union between families. Every time, she had come home and given her parents a long and disappointing list of qualities that made the suitor completely unacceptable, and in one or two cases, repulsive.

This was the first time she had been more or less in agreement. And she still had no idea what to wear.

Linda could sense her friend's troubled mind. “Don't worry yourself! After Divination tomorrow we'll get you all dolled up. I'm not going out with Charlie Cooper until after supper, so we'll have plenty of time to get you ready. I hope he plans on feeding you something divine, because I'm heard tomorrow's feast is going to be superb. You know, the house elves are apparently going to be making...” Delaena let her friend go on, only half listening. She was nervous about something so trivial as a dinner date? With a half-blood? Well, he was the top student... A brilliant mind. She could only guess what went on behind those eyes.

She looked over at the group of boys by the fireplace. They were huddled around Tom, who seemed to be directing a very serious conversation, not the usual dull chitchat. One of the younger ones was looking very worried. Was it unrelated, she wondered? Did it have something to do with whatever Riddle was telling them, in such a hushed tone? She couldn't see his face, but she could imagine the look of stone cold seriousness, dark eyes hard, cold, looking from person to person, reading their face, their body language...

“Laena? Laena, you're not listening!”

Delaena snapped back to attention, looking at Linda, who had her arms folded and was pouting prettily. “Sorry, darling. You know, nerves.” She figured that would ease Linda's feelings, and she was right. Her friend waved it off, clucking her tongue like a mother hen.

The next day was a Friday, thankfully. She could imagine most of the girls would not be feeling well the morning after, and many of the boys, too. She'd heard whispers of contraceptive potions being passed around. One of the professors had caught whiff of these rumours, and indeed a culprit, a slimy sixth-year Ravenclaw, had been caught red-handed with a bag of Sickles in one pocket and a stock of small vials full of the stuff in another. He'd been suspended for a week, and some of the more prudish of the girls were saying that he should be expelled. Delaena couldn't really care less. She was still virginal, but that was her own business. What the other students did after hours was entirely up to them.

“I need to get outside,” she said, gathering up her things into her bag. “Why?” Linda said, wrinkling her nose. “Guess,” Delaena muttered, looking pointedly at her friend. The blonde heaved a sigh, but followed.

They made their way up out of the dungeons and outside, far across the grounds to the bleachers of the Quidditch field. Luckily, nobody was practicing. Laena pulled out a small paper packet from her purse, and handed her friend a cigarette. She lit her own with the tip of her wand, and inhaled deeply. The scent of sweet, cherry-flavoured smoke followed her exhale. “Where do you get these, anyway?” Linda asked, sighing softly after puffing out several rings of pinkish smoke. “My cousin Louisa sends them from Paris. I send her the money. You can only get them there, so far. They're so new. Very fashionable,” she said, her tone teasing. Linda wrinkled her nose. “Well, you're a modern woman, Laena. In every sense except style. Next thing you know you'll be running off with some musician to America and dancing in jazz clubs!”

Delaena laughed, blowing a stream of smoke from her nostrils. The smoke was beginning to turn from pink to purple. “Don't push your imagination! I like England just fine. I wouldn't mind moving to France, perhaps. A little manor in the countryside.” Linda pouted. “So no jazz clubs?” Delaena shook her head with a wide grin. “My dear, I highly doubt it. My poor grandmama would absolutely die!” The two dissolved into giggles as the smoke from their cigarettes turned yellow. “Ooh,” cooed Linda, taking a pull. “Lemon meringue pie! Laena, you must buy me a pack!” Delaena giggled. “I'll get you some for Christmas.”

 

Friday's classes dragged by at a snail's pace. By the time Delaena sat down across from Linda at their low table in the Divination classroom, she looked positively haggard. Linda stared at her friend, aghast. “What happened?” she whispered. The redhead shook her head, closing her eyes. “I guess I'm more nervous than I thought,” she admitted with a sheepish smile. They both hushed when the class began, focusing today on scrying mirrors, often used for looking through past lives.

Delaena had often had a bit of a gift for the subject. Although an imprecise art, often looked at with scorn, her predictions with a deck of cards were very, very accurate. She gazed into the obsidian slab, focusing her eyes on the place where her third eye would be, and let herself drift...

At first, all she could see was her forehead. Then, slowly, her face began to blur at the edges. Moments later a tall, old woman could be seen, hunched over a cane. A tattered shawl hung limply over her shoulders. “You take care of her, now!” she called to someone in the distance. The woman sighed. “Oh, by Merlin, what will I do without that lass?” The woman spoke with a heavy Scottish lilt. She toddled to a cushioned bench and sat down, leaning the cane up beside her. “I'll miss my gel, that's fer sure. But I've got my darling cat, mm?” She snapped her withered fingers and a decrepit grey cat jumped up onto the bench beside her and curled into a bony ball. She stroked the thing with a sad smile. “To think, my youngest gel would be leaving me alone in such a big old house! Perhaps I should do something with Harold's fortune... Buy a housekeeper, someone to help me out 'round here. Och, no, that'll not do...” She retrieved a wand from somewhere inside her dress, and gave it a flick. The cobwebs around the feet of the bench vanished, and the woman stood with renewed vigour. “I'll take care of meself until I pass on. I've never needed help from anyone! And the first child who comes to visit me... Yes. That's the one who'll get the most.” The crone cackled and hobbled inside, the cat limping along behind her.

Delaena blinked. “Oh, I hope I missaw...” “I haven't seen anything. What did you get?” Linda asked, curiously. “Apparently I was some rich old woman with a cat living alone in a huge house. Scottish...” Linda bit back a smile. “So, being a crazy cat lady isn't new, then?” Laena glowered. “Do you want to dress me up, or not?” She growled. Linda laughed and raised her hands. “Hey, I'm not the one with the cat!” The professor tapped Delaena on the shoulder abruptly, indicating that the girls should be getting back to work. With an embarrassed smile, she turned back to her mirror and tried to see if any of her other past lives were more interesting.

 

After class, Linda practically shoved Delaena through the corridors and into the dorms. “Got black stockings?” she asked, opening up her trunk. “Of course,” Laena scoffed, opening up her own and stripping down. She changed out of her nude stockings and white garter belt, rolling up a pair of black lace-tops and hooking them into a matching black belt with little red bows at the sides. Linda raised her eyebrows. “Planning on showing those off?” Delaena shrugged nonchalantly. “Oh, I don't know, maybe I'll give him a little show.” She rolled her eyes. “Really, Lin? Like I'd do something like that!” Linda laughed. “Right. The most you've ever done is neck under the Quidditch stands!” She turned her back while Delaena changed her knickers from white to black. “But, really... why all the matching?” She sounded uneasy.

“Because I like matching, that's why.” Delaena flicked her wand, and her bra changed, too. “Ah, ah! Take that off! I have something for you.” Delaena frowned at her friend, but obliged. The blonde held up a skimpy black lace bustier. “Really! And I'm the scandalous one!” Laena laughed and held it up to herself for a moment before doing up the hooks at the side. “When have you ever worn this?” Linda blushed deep crimson. “Never. I bought it in case Rudy Stint asks me out. You know, that gorgeous seventh year? The one with the chestnut hair and the eyes like... like... Oh! You know?” The ginger laughed and nodded. “I know. The one you've been in lust with since first year.” “Not lust! It's love...” Linda sighed dreamily. “In something like this?” Delaena said wryly. “It's lust.”

Linda shook off that remark and held up a dress. It was deep green, with black lace over the bodice. There were no sleeves, and the full skirt fell to the middle of Delaena's calves once it was zipped up. “Oh, Laenie, it's perfect!” Linda murmured. She flicked her wand, and Delaena's hair was quickly pinned up in a neat French roll. “Ow!” she yelped as a hairpin scraped her scalp. “Sorry! I'm still working on smoothing out all those bumps...”

She looked at herself in the mirror. Well, it certainly was different from her usual appearance... A green beaded shawl draped itself neatly around her shoulders, fastening together with a brooch of emerald and silver. “The house colours,” Linda informed her just a little smugly. Delaena picked up her own black clutch purse and slipped into a pair of low-heeled black shoes. “You look divine!” Linda cooed.

Starla McKinnon came into the room and did a double take. “Delaena Hartwood! Absolutely stunning!” She clapped her tan hands together and did a little hop of joy. Delaena flushed, smiling awkwardly. “Thank you,” she said. She looked up at the clock. “Well, here goes nothing...” She took a deep breath, and descended the steps to the main common room.

A few people turned their heads and did double takes, but it was no grand entrance. Tom was standing beside the fireplace, leaning one arm on the mantle. He was always leaning! Leaning, or having rod-straight posture. She shook her head softly, afraid of shaking her hair too much. He was dressed in a sharp black suit, with a silver serpent tie-pin.

“Lovely,” Tom said, his voice velvety smooth. He offered his elbow, and Delaena slipped her arm round his. “Shall we?” She smiled as dazzlingly as she could, trying to look like Linda. “Where to, sir?”

He grinned. “Sir? I like that. I have a little place in mind... Dinner, perhaps some dancing.” He led the way out of the common room and up out of the dungeons. Several other couples were wandering about, holding hands, walking shyly side by side. It was all very... expected. The typical Valentine's, she thought.

He walked slowly, a kindness to her much shorter legs. Still, she had to take two quick steps for every one of his. They passed more and more pairs of students as they headed up the staircases to the seventh floor. “Where is this place?” She had thought that he might be taking her into Hogsmeade, but that suspicion had been snuffed several flights of stairs ago. Tom simply chuckled. “You'll see...”

He guided her down the corridor, her arm still tucked in his. They approached a door. “I don't remember this being here,” she said, frowning a little. In her sixth year, she was still alarmed at the surprises the castle held. He opened up the door and held it for her, ushering her inside.

It was dimly lit, by floating candles much the same as the ones in the Great Hall. The walls were red, or at least she thought so. It was hard to tell. There seemed to be deep red and black hangings over them, though. A table was in the middle of the room, set for two, with a covered platter in the middle. The same music from the card was playing from somewhere in the room, and a bouquet of wild violets was on the chair that Tom pulled out for her. “I hope you don't mind. It is your middle name, yes?” Delaena nodded, in awe. “Yes, it is... It's my favourite flower, too.” She picked up the bouquet and sat, letting him tuck the seat in under her. After he was seated across from her, the flowers laid beside her plate, the silver cover of the platter rose. It was a simple pasta, but it looked absolutely delicious. It served each of them itself, and closed shut again. “I hope you don't mind the lack of garlic bread. I find garlic distasteful for romantic evenings, as the odour on one's breath is rather off-putting.” Delaena smiled, smoothing her napkin neatly over her lap. “I don't mind.” She wanted to contest the idea of a 'romantic' evening, but decided that that could wait until after she'd eaten.

The pasta was as delicious as it looked. The sauce was perfect, just the right mix of herbs and the perfect texture. They ate in near silence. “Would you care for dessert?” Tom asked once they had cleared their plates. “Oh, no thank you, I'm full!” Delaena laughed. “Well then. A glass of wine, perhaps?” He held up a crystal decanter. Where had that come from? She must have missed him getting it while eating. Maybe she did care too much about food... “It's nettle, with some honey to sweeten it.” Delaena tried that dazzling smile again. “I would love a glass.” Tom rose this time, and poured it for her himself. She could see, from this close, that the serpent tie-pin had tiny emeralds for eyes. She wondered where he'd gotten that. It was no secret of his... status. She could also smell the faint hint of aftershave and peppermint. A blush crept up her throat, and she lowered her eyes. Once he had filled his own wine glass, he held it up for a toast. “Happy Valentine's Day, my dear. Thank you for being mine.” Delaena touched her glass to his, and took a sip. It wasn't the very best wine she had had, but it certainly was nowhere near the worst. “This is lovely,” she said softly. It was sweeter than other nettle wines she'd had, probably because of the honey.

After a few more minutes of near silence, Tom rose again. “Would you dance with me?” he held out his hand to her. With a smile, Delaena took it and stood. His arm looped around her waist and pulled her close to him, eliciting a gasp of surprise. “Is this quite appropriate?” She said, looking up at his pale face. Somehow it didn't seem to be warmed by the soft light of the candles. “I think so,” he said, softly. He held her hand loosely in his, and began to lead her in a slow waltz. After some time and several changes of pace, they swayed together and she relaxed enough to let her head lean towards his chest. There was that peppermint smell again. It was quite pleasant, really, she though as she closed her eyes and sighed, ever so softly.

“You should take that shawl off,” he said, reaching down to unclasp the brooch himself. She jumped a little, and shied away, feeling his long fingers getting a little too close for comfort to her breasts. He laughed. “I won't stick you with it, I promise.” He quickly unpinned it and set the brooch and shawl on the chair she had been sitting on. The whole table danced itself away, tucked up to the wall to give them more space. Delaena felt oddly naked and cold with her shoulders bare. “You have freckles,” Tom mused, running the back of one finger over her shoulder and upper arm. “But none on your face. Just your shoulders and... Oh, yes, some on your chest.” The young woman raised an eyebrow. “I'm guessing it's the first time you've looked,” she said, a little teasingly.

“Oh, no, dear. I've looked you over many times. You don't think I'd have invited you if I wasn't interested, surely?” She stiffened a little. “Interested? I'm... I don't think you really know me.” Her voice was soft, and just a little afraid. Tom laughed, seeming to take pleasure in this. “Oh, my dear. I know you're well-behaved. That isn't entirely what I meant. Although, I wouldn't complain, if you were interested in such activities. After all, some rules can be... bent.”

He was looking down at her, waiting for an answer. She could feel that blush crawling up her throat to her cheeks. “I think I need a little more wine.” She pulled away and took up her glass, taking a most unladylike gulp. She turned to look at Tom, and watched as he pulled his wand from the inside pocket of his jacket, and gave it a wave. The draperies at the wall pulled aside, revealing a plush looking loveseat and a crackling fire. “Here,” he said, already moving to take a seat. She brought her glass, taking another sip before joining him, sitting into the spot closer to the fire. His arm moved around her again, pulling her up to his side.

“Relax, Delaena. I won't do anything if you don't want me to.” She tried to relax, and did, finally, once her glass was empty. It was amazing how one little glass could turn a woman into a melted pat of butter. She set the empty glass on the ground beside them and leaned against him again. For how pale he was, he felt surprisingly warm. Perhaps that had something to do with the wine, but she wasn't about to complain. “You should let your hair down.” He seemed to be saying a lot of things like that, but she wasn't arguing with him right now. She let him pull the pins loose, hearing them drop to the ground. Her hair fell around her shoulders in loose waves, shaped from being held in the roll for so long.

“That's much better,” Tom murmured, reaching up to stroke her hair gently. She closed her eyes, leaning her head towards his hand. Suddenly that peppermint and aftershave smell was stronger than ever, and she felt his lips on hers.

She stilled, but neither pulled away nor opened her eyes. He didn't move either, except his hand to continue caressing her hair. The motion seemed to calm her, and she leaned forward, towards him. She felt him smile, and suddenly his teeth were tugging at her lower lip. She was in no position to complain. In fact, it was the most pleasant kiss she'd experienced, yet. Her lips parted, allowing his tongue to gently reach for hers.

After several minutes of this, she felt the hand on her side move up and down, stroking her, relaxing her. She was leaned back against the arm of the loveseat, and her arms moved up around his neck. “You should take this off,” she purred, copying his words from earlier and tugging at his jacket. “Don't tell me what to do,” he said, in the same tone. Something about the words sent an excited chill down her spine. He did, however shed the jacket. His hands were back on her almost immediately, both now caressing her sides. “You aren't too drunk to say no, are you?” he said with half a grin, dark eyes glittering.

“No,” she whispered. “That is, I'm not. Why?” He looked her over, lying back on the sofa with her legs across his lap. His fingers pulled at the zipper. “May I?” She took a deep breath. Well, she rationalised, may as well put her underwear to good use. “Yes,” she breathed.

He unzipped her slowly, pushing the dress open and across her breast. His eyebrows raised at the sight of the bustier, and his smile widened. “Dressed up for me?” She grinned. “For myself, actually. I'm just letting you in on the secret.” He laughed. It sounded alarmingly warm... Not a familiar feeling, from him. The dress was pulled down her hips and legs, discarded. “Lovely,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss her throat. She sighed, biting her lower lip gently. His thin fingers were tracing up and down her arms, over her sides and stomach, following the curve of her hip. They found the hooks of the bustier, and she felt the pressure release as it was undone.

“Shouldn't a good girl be stopping me by now? Demanding a proposal first?” Tom teased, pulling the garment away. The air wasn't cool, but her small nipples hardened almost immediately after being exposed. “You did propose,” she said nonchalantly. “It wasn't a wedding proposal, but it was a proposal, of sorts.” He shook his head. “You are a surprising one...”

“And shouldn't the Head Boy do better than to lure good girls away with wine and dancing? Certainly not what you're doing right no-ohhh...” Her retort was cut off as both of his hands cupped her breasts, massaging them gently. They were just large enough to fill his hands, and small enough to stay perky when he released them. “I think we both know that people don't know what they think about us,” Tom said quietly. That little sliver of fear made itself known again, in the back of her mind, but she silenced it.

He was kissing her again, and tie was off. His hands were on her hips, lips at her throat while she unbuttoned his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders. He pulled away long enough to unfasten his suspenders and teat off the undershirt he wore, baring his chest. He was nearly hairless, but for a small patch of dark curls in the centre of his chest, and a trail leading down from his belly button. Her fingernail followed that trail, a coy smile playing on her lips.

“Dangerous, girl. You know that.” His voice was warning, but he smiled. Their shoes were cast aside, his taking some struggling to remove. Suddenly, his mouth was on her breast, and she was biting back sounds of pleasure. “Don't silence yourself,” his voice was hot against her skin. “Nobody will hear you but me.” Oh, if these walls could talk, she thought, her mind a wild mess of do's and don't's and shouldn't's. His teeth grazed her nipple, and she let out an audible whimper, back arching. Her nails sunk into his upper arms just a little, and he growled. “That's it, enjoy it...” He bit the other nipple, sucking it into his mouth and rolling his tongue over the hard little bud.

She was arching, toes curling. Somehow he managed to move himself between her legs. One hand brushed over her knickers, and she gasped, shying away again.

“I don't know. I'm--” “I know. I'll be gentle.” “But what if--” Tom pulled away to look her in the eye. “I slipped some of my own contraceptive into the wine. Trust me.” Had he been planning this? She almost wanted to protest... almost.

His fingers ran up her inner thigh, brushing the side of her panties. She bit her lower lip and whimpered. One fingertip slipped underneath the material, and stroked her slit. She gasped sharply, eyes squeezing shut. Tom chuckled. “I like it when you do that.” She didn't know if he meant the gasp or the flinch, but didn't ask.

He lowered her knickers, slowly. The candlelight seemed to make the fine, copper curls revealed glow. She did keep them... maintained, unlike some other girls. “Very nice,” he murmured in that satin voice. He leaned down and kissed her mound, and then lower. His lips brushed against a very sensitive bundle of nerves, and she yelped. She was the only one who had ever touched that, and it certainly felt different when someone else did it. He chuckled, his tongue flicking out. One finger moved to her bared slit again, and his mouth wrapped around her clit. Her head fell back against the arm of the chair, and a moan escaped her throat as the thin finger slipped inside, just past the first knuckle. “There you go,” he purred, sliding it in deeper. He kept suckling her clit as he buried that finger inside. It curled up, hitting a spot she didn't even know existed, and she moaned again.

He added a second finger and repeated the motion. She was becoming more relaxed, and certainly more wet, with every little thrust of his hand. His lips travelled back up her body and landed on hers. She could taste herself, very faintly, as her mouth opened and her tongue met his. She moaned loudly into his mouth, arching her back in pleasure.

Suddenly, Tom pulled his fingers away. Laena bit back a whine and looked at him. He was standing, pulling off his pants and boxers, letting them fall around him. His cock was large, something she hadn't expected from someone so willowy. She swallowed. It was also hard. He moved between her legs again, and she screwed up her face, waiting for the pain. He laughed. “Calm down. Relax...” The head prodded her nether lips gently, and then slipped in. She stretched around him, not unpleasantly. His eyes were closed, hands firmly gripping her hips. 

Delaena took a deep breath, parting her legs a little wider. He slid inside her smoothly, without need for hesitation, until the tip of his manhood hit her hymen. She tensed again, and he hushed her, one hand reaching up to stroke the side of her face. The pad of his thumb brushed her lips, his fingers ran through her hair. She relaxed, slowly, and he pushed forward.

There was a little pinch, and then it was over. He was hilted inside her, his mouth open and eyes closed in pleasure. “T-Tom?” she asked, looking up at his face. “Yes, dear, it's my first time too.” his voice was a little gruff, and he pulled away. He thrust into her again slowly, filling her up with his cock. She moaned softly, feeling her cunt stretch around him, feeling him fill her and push against that sensitive spot again. He leaned down and kissed her, again, fingers tangled in her hair. As his thrusts gradually grew faster, his hand tightened, pulling just a little. It wasn't unpleasant, so her surprise. She moaned again when he suddenly thrust roughly, slamming up against her. His balls slapped against her ass audibly. “Moan for me,” he demanded, his voice rough, growling through gritted teeth. She did. She moaned loudly, with each thrust. He was leaning back now, holding tightly to her hips and pounding her, and she was screaming, a blend of pleasure and pain.

Suddenly, she felt a strange tension. She's explored herself, but never brought herself to climax. With every pounding, nearly painful thrust, she felt her pussy tightening around his cock. “Yes,” he hissed through his teeth, head tilted back, jaw tense. “Cum for me. Cum, Delaena.” She whimpered a moment, and then moaned, a howling, animalistic cry as her cunt clamped down around him and she bucked her hips. He groaned, and she felt heat inside her, filling her up. They kept moaning together, and Tom fell forward, kissing her throat, her lips, her breasts. After a few more slower thrusts, Tom pulled out. His seed followed, trickling down towards her anus.

Tom, glistening with sweat, waved his wand. She was clean again.

As they dressed themselves, Delaena tried to find the right words. “Did we just... make love?”

“Love?” Tom snorted. “Love isn't real, you know that my dear. We fucked. And it was very nice, I'd say. Wouldn't you?”

She blushed, but nodded. “That contraceptive--” “It'll work,” he said firmly. “And if it doesn't, don't worry about a thing.” She nodded again, a little dazed at those words. She wasn't entirely sure she knew what he meant, and she didn't want to.

“Now, then. Shall we get back to the common room?” Tom offered her his arm, as before. She smiled up at him and stood, knees a little shaky. “Lead the way.”


	3. 3

It was a small miracle that Linda wasn't back yet. Delaena had her suspicions of her friend, but didn't care about any of that right now. She was just relieved she didn't have to explain the state of her appearance to her best friend. She was exhausted, so after gathering up her bedclothes and a clean towel, she headed into the dorm bathroom to take a quick shower, washing the sweat, saliva and dried semen off of her inner thighs. Her cheeks flushed hotly again, and she felt just a little horrified at what had happened. Surprisingly, and thankfully, she hadn't bled. Tom hadn't accused her of lying about her virginity. It had been clear enough when he first started that there was something there... She scrubbed herself quickly, trying to push the memory from her mind for the moment.

When she finished showering, Laena dried off and dressed in a simple white nightgown. It covered all the necessary bits. She pulled on a clean pair of knickers, as well, feeling a strange sense of relief.

She crawled under the crisp, cool sheets of her bed and rolled onto her side, closing her eyes. Her mind was racing. She'd just had sex with Tom Riddle... She couldn't tell Linda. Her friend would be either too excited and let too many hints slip in public, or absolutely horrified. She was guessing on the latter. The dress she'd borrowed was neatly folded and laid on the end of her friend's bed. She would wash the bustier herself Saturday morning. 

Was that just a one-time thing? Or did Tom expect to build some sort of relationship with her? Delaena was sure they could both find ways to make that work the the advantage of themselves and each other. After all, surely they could build some sort of friendship. If it was a one night stand, however, how was she supposed to face him? She rolled onto her other side, huffing a sigh. Well, of course she could face him! It wasn't as if she hadn't enjoyed it, or he had been using her – well, she was sure he had, but the fact remained that for some reason, she didn't mind. The only real problem would be if he told his cronies and the whispers got around, but that would tarnish his sterling reputation, too.

She heard Linda come stumbling in, giggling, discarding articles of clothing nilly-willy across the room. “Laenie! Are you awake?” she whispered loudly. “Laena! Are you sleeping?” Delaena kept her eyes closed, forcing deep, even breaths. Her friend made a whiny, pouting sound and left her be to ponder the next morning until she finally drifted off to sleep.

 

She woke up in the late morning, still earlier than Linda. The blonde was snoring softly, rollers perfectly clipped in place. Shaking her head, Delaena dressed in her usual attire, the general school wear, and headed into the common room.

There were other students milling about, several of whom it was obvious had had a little too much fun the night before. She wondered just how many girls were in the bathrooms retching, a side effect of the potion she knew several had taken. She supposed Tom's had simply been easier to handle.

He was there, of course. His club was halved; she suspected the rest were still in bed. She kept her chin high, meeting his eyes for a moment. He nodded to her politely; she returned the favour.

“Miss Hartwood,” he called to her as she was about to sit down at a small table near a wall. “Why don't you join us?” It was easy to hear that it wasn't exactly a question. She hoisted her satchel on her shoulder again, approaching the small group.

“Here, sit beside me. You know Avery, yes?” She looked at the boy sulkily giving up his seat on the sofa to her. She nodded, both in response and in a polite thanks. She set her bag down on the floor and sat, tucking her skirt smoothly behind her and crossing her ankles neatly. “And Lestrange, I'm sure.” The dark-haired younger boy smiled up at her, eyes wide. It was as if he'd never been this close to a female. She leaned back, as much to get away from him as anything else.

The other boys were introduced, and Tom's arm somehow found its way around her shoulders. Delaena raised an eyebrow, but said nothing. He pulled at her gently, forcing her to lean into his side. Her hands stayed in her lap, not sure of what to do. The boys started talking again. One of them, a first year with thick golden curls and a smattering of freckles, was telling them about a Ravenclaw that had been awful to him the night before. 

“I was just in the library, and this great big thing- I think he must have been at least a Sixth, came up and grabbed me! He pushed me and grabbed the book I was reading. Said something about how he couldn't find it on the shelf, so I did him a service of retrieving it for him.” The others grumbled. Laena could feel Tom tensing up beside her. It was like pulling a string tighter, and tighter. He was practically vibrating by the end of the story.

“Ravenclaws,” he spat finally. “They need to learn not to mess with Slytherins. We take care of our own.” “Yeah,” Avery chimed in. “Don't worry, Holm. We'll make sure they don't bother you.” The little boy smiled up at them, looking especially awed at Tom. She was a little worried for the aforementioned Ravenclaw, although she wasn't entirely sure why. She did have a strong sense of family and devotion to her house- if something happened to one of her own, she would stand behind them. There was just something about Tom that felt... gleeful. Avery, as well. She'd never really seen either of them as bullies. Then again, she rarely saw them off on their own. Who knew what they did in the back stacks of the library to those who crossed them?

Delaena shivered involuntarily. Tom rubbed her arm, clicking his tongue. “Cold, dear?” She shook her head. “No, just one of those chills. You know?”

Linda came down from the dormitories, looking around the common room. She spotted Laena and stopped, a slow smile spreading across her face. Tom followed Delaena's gaze, and chuckled. “Invite your friend over. As we said, we don't turn our backs on each other.”

She didn't have to beckon, the blonde was already moseying her way up to the sofa, pulling up an empty chair. “So I'm guessing last night went well?” she asked slyly. Delaena stilled for half a moment, looking up at Tom's face to see what he would say. He simply shrugged. “I suppose it must have.” She relaxed, letting the smile creep up into her features, brightening her eyes.

Linda practically clapped her hands for joy. “What about you?” Delaena asked. “Have a good night with Charlie Cooper?” Linda sighed, gazing up towards the floating lanterns. “It was bright and bold and short lived.” 

“Wait, did you-?”

Linda stared at her friend, aghast. “The notion! Of course not! We just necked. It was fun until his younger brother- Roland, from Gryffindor- hexed him with an outburst of pimples. Oh, well, I still got a gift out of it!” She held her wrist out, displaying a lovely silver bracelet. Laena raised her eyebrows. “Careful, people might wonder how you earned that,” she teased. The others chuckled, and a third-year boy came staggering down the stairs, rushing up to Tom for help with his Transfiguration homework. Tom unwrapped his arm from around Laena's shoulders and leaned over the little coffee table, pointing out the fine points that the boy had missed.

She watched, intrigued. His methods were so precise. He combed through the homework slowly, picking up things she never would have noticed on her own. It was completely different from his attitude last night. Last night had definitely been part of a plan, but it was more like the events were loosely draped around a skeleton of a schedule. She filed that knowledge away to think about another time.

 

The day ended up being fairly quiet. The sun shone for about half an hour, and then the clouds moved in and it began to rain. Delaena had gone off to the library for some alone time as the sky darkened, and she sat by a window, the book in her hands forgotten as she watched the drops race each other down the glass.

“Miss Hartwood?”

She looked up, jumping. “Oh, I'm sorry, Professor Dumbledore, I didn't see you!” The old man smiled kindly. “It's not a problem, dear. I often surprise myself when I show up unexpectedly, too.” She smiled. “Miss Hartwood, are you close with Mister Riddle?” She started. How did rumours spread so quickly? “Well, a little, I suppose,” she said, not entirely sure where this was going. Dumbledore nodded slowly. “Alright. Keep an eye open for him, my dear. I think he might need it.”

Without another word, he was walking away and leaving Delaena flabbergasted. How did he always manage to be so mysterious? Even in class, half the time she had no idea what he was talking about. She just tried to follow along.

He might need her to look after him? That was doubtful. If there was anyone she knew that could take care of themselves, it was Tom Riddle. The thought was a little bit of a relief, actually. Were they to end up going steady, she wouldn't have to worry about being his little housewife. She was sure he was so particular about things that he wouldn't let her interfere. She looked down at the book in her hands, trying to focus again on the words on the page. They seemed to be jumbling. Was she losing focus? No- no, they were bored. “Hey!” she whispered sharply, giving the spine of the book a quick tap. The words sorted themselves out quickly, settling back into position. It took her a moment to find her place again, but she managed to read a good few pages before her eyes drifted back to the growing darkness outside.

She didn't mind the rain. On the contrary, it soothed her. The gentle tapping at the window, the softened edges of the trees outside through the drops. It was relaxing. Tranquil. She set the book down on her lap and turned her head to watch the light disappear behind the Forbidden Forest. She allowed her mind to wander, thoughts changing as rapidly as the rain running down the windowpane. 

When she snapped back to reality, it was dark. The library was almost empty, aside from the crotchety librarian. He glared over at Delaena, his mouth puckered as if he'd just been sucking a lemon. Checking her watch, she jumped a little. It was later than she'd thought; she'd missed supper. Oh, well, she was sure she could find something for herself later. She wouldn't starve. She scooped up the book and headed back to put it away.

She's found it somewhere in the Restricted Section, though why, she was unsure. She suspected that the subtle adult undertones of pre-Roman sex rituals had something to do with it, even if it was barely touched upon.

She wandered further back through the stacks, trying to find the shelf she'd retrieved it from. They seemed to have reordered themselves again. She sighed, shaking her head. Cheeky buggers.

She had finally found the spot she'd originally removed the book from when the book decided it wasn't ready for bed. Whenever she tried to fit it in the gap, it opened itself up and fluttered its pages. “Oh, for Merlin's sake,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Do you want me to leave you with the librarian to deal with you, or will you go quietly?” she whispered fiercely. The pages rustled with indignation and the book snapped itself shut. “Very good.” It slid easily into its home. She sighed and turned around.

Tom was standing behind her. She jumped, leaning back against the shelves and clutching at her chest. “How do you do that?” she hissed, catching her breath. He simply looked at her.

“You missed supper. Why?”

“I lost track of time in here. It's nothing to worry about.” She lowered her eyes, not liking the cold, hard stare he was giving her.

“Oh, but I was worried. Especially when Linda said she hadn't seen you since you wandered off this afternoon.” Delaena frowned. “The castle is only so large, Tom. I wouldn't have been lost for long.”

He scoffed. “Lost? I didn't think you were lost. You can be foolish, but you're not stupid. I just wondered if perhaps you were off having a tryst with some other fellow...”

“A tryst?” her voice was skeptical. “Really, Tom? I highly doubt that you really believe that.” He took a step towards her, and she shrunk back involuntarily.

“And why not? Who knows what new lusts might have been awakened after our evening last night.” His hand reached to caress her cheek, and she had to force herself not to flinch. She didn't know why she was so on edge, but she also didn't know why he seemed to be so menacing right now.

“Tom, I was here the whole time. You can ask the librarian.” She was uncomfortable now, and his fingers were stroking her jaw, sending little tingles dancing over her skin.

“You had better not be lying, Miss Hartwood.” Suddenly, his hand was just below her throat, pushing the line of his thumb to his forefinger against her collarbone. She was pressed back against the shelf, staring at him in shock. Her heart pounded in her chest. “I-I'm not, Tom,” her voice was small.

He smiled. “Good,” he said, reducing the pressure. “Just keep in mind that you're mine now.”


	4. Chapter 4

Tom's hands moved to her shoulders, and she was forcefully turned around, facing the books. Her heart pounded in her chest.

“Tom,” she hissed. “What are you doing?”

“Be quiet.”

“But what if-”

“I said,” Tom's voice was dangerously calm and soft, “be quiet.”

Delaena fell silent, aside from the thudding of her heart against her breastbone. His hands travelled down from her shoulders, over her arms, to hold her wrists. He guided her hands to rest on a shelf at level with the top of her hips. Then his hands were on her sides, untucking her blouse and reaching up to cup her breasts over her bra.

“Keep silent now, my dear,” he murmured, his mouth right beside her ear. She could feel his hot breath. One hand reached up to move her hair, and then his lips were against the side of her neck.

Despite the fear, she couldn't help but feel a rush. Adrenaline, hormones, whatever it was, she was starting to enjoy it. Not the fact that he had seemed so dangerous, but the sensations he was sending through her now. That little fear of being caught was almost arousing.

Tom's hands abandoned her breasts and reached down to lift up her skirt. His fingers stroked her over her panties, and she heard him chuckle. “See? You're enjoying this. My dear, sweet thing.” She bit her lip, feeling her cheeks flushing hotter, and his fingers slipped under the cotton to stroke the lips. Delaena gasped, and bit hard on the inside of her cheek to keep from making another sound. His free hand had already covered her mouth tightly.

That hand stayed there, while the other fingers continued to tease her ever-dampening pussy. It took several moments before she realised her hips were squirming, rocking back and forth in an effort to work his fingers inside. She didn't know if she should be embarrassed that she wanted him this badly, or proud that he seemed to enjoy her body enough to come back for seconds.

Without warning, two fingers plunged inside, up to the knuckle. She was suddenly thankful for the hand covering her mouth, as it muffled the small sound that did escape. “Keep still,” Tom growled in her ear, and she made an effort to keep her hips from writhing.

He withdrew his fingers and thrust them in again, roughly. She was surprised at how hard he was being with her, in comparison to last night. Then again, she wasn't a virgin any more, he didn't have to be gentle for the sake of her maidenhood. It certainly wasn't unpleasant, and she wasn't in any position to complain. She couldn't, even if she wanted to.

While the two fingers were increasing in speed, curling up to push against that spot he'd discovered last night, his thumb tucked under to push against her clit. He wasn't able to focus on it without either withdrawing his fingers from inside her or releasing his hold on her mouth, and he seemed fairly sure that neither were a thing he was willing to do. Still, the pressure did enough. She could feel the tension building in her lower belly again. Her breath was coming in short gasps, pushed through her nostrils. His teeth caught her earlobe. “Don't let go yet, sweetheart,” he purred into her ear, increasing the pressure against her g-spot. She squeezed her eyes shut, feeling her cunt tightening around his fingers. It felt as if those fingers were swelling, filling her up more deeply, but she knew that that was simply because of her own physical response. However, the logic behind it didn't make it any less incredible.

“Not until I tell you to.”

A few of the lanterns further down the library went out. She could hear the footsteps getting closer. The great, silent room seemed to amplify them. It felt like the librarian was right behind the shelf she was up against.

“Now.”

Her whole body seemed to clench for a moment at his word, and then release. She convulsed, gripping the shelf he'd set her hands on until her knuckles were white. He continued finger-fucking her, gradually slowing and withdrawing his fingers. Retrieving a handkerchief from the pocket of his robes, Tom cleaned himself off and released her.

Were it not for her hold on the shelf, Delaena would have certainly collapsed. She quickly tucked in her blouse and straightened out her skirt, and just in time. The librarian, sour-faced, rounded the corner of the stacks and folded his arms. “Do you have any idea what time- Oh, Mister Riddle, I don't know you were here!”

Tom smiled that charming smile of his. “I'm sorry, sir. I was just helping Miss Hartwood get that book of hers in check.” The old man waved it off, turning back around. “It's alright, alright. Don't you worry about it. Just don't you be up too late!”

“Certainly not, sir. We'll be out right away.”

Delaena picked up her satchel and hung it on her shoulder, almost afraid to meet Tom's eyes. He took her chin and kissed her softly, smiling down at her. “Let's get you to bed before I have to report you,” he whispered.

 

She slept fitfully. Her dreams were plagues by flashes and glimpses of someone watching her, and she was constantly waking up, expecting to see someone on the end of her bed. Every time, however, it was empty, the other girls asleep. She would drowse again and the same would happen. When the other girls were rising from their beds, she had her head buried under her pillow in an attempt to get any rest at all. After a short time, she knew there was no help for it, and dragged herself from bed.

She readied herself for Sunday's breakfast, washing her face and brushing her hair. She looked exhausted; there was no magic cream she had for the dark circles under her eyes, and Linda was already in the common room.

“Blast,” she muttered, pinching the bridge of her nose. Well, there was nothing else she could do. Perhaps she would actually have a cup of coffee, rather than her usual pumpkin juice, with her sausage and eggs.

Tom was watching for her from his spot. His expression changed for a split second- had she seen concern on his face? There was no way to tell, as he was as composed as ever, right away. He stood to greet her, sauntering to the door of the dormitory. “You look tired,” he said, arm around her shoulders. They walked to the rest of the group. “Didn't you sleep well?” There, she saw for sure, was a hint of a smirk. Her cheeks turned the faintest shade of pink. “No, I couldn't stay asleep. I was tossing and turning all night...”

They sat down, and he pulled her tight against his side. Linda was there again, making eyes at Abraxas Malfoy. The blond seventh-year seemed to be enjoying the attention. Delaena smiled and shook her head.

“What's the plan for today, Tom?” Holm asked, his large eyes full of adoration for the leader of the group. Tom tilted his head to one side, thinking. Laena watched his face, for some giveaway of what was going through his mind. “I think we might need to have a club meeting,” he mused. Delaena raised an eyebrow. She didn't know about these... As if hearing her thoughts, Tom turned to look at her. “No ladies allowed, sorry.” His voice had a charming teasing tone to it, and she couldn't help but smile. “That's alright,” she said. “I'm sure Lin and I can find something to do.” Her friend, however, wasn't listening, instead gazing prettily from under her lashes at Malfoy.

Delaena shook her head again. Already, her friend had forgotten about the boy who'd given her the silver bracelet she was wearing. Linda was so often changing her mind about who she liked, Delaena had long stopped trying to keep track.

“Well,” she said. “I think I'm about ready for breakfast.” Tom stood with her. “An excellent plan. Come, come.” The others followed. She had intended on going by herself, but she supposed she didn't really mind the group following... Why did he feel the need to be surrounded by them, though? It seemed the only times that he got her alone were times that he wanted inside her.

She sagged a little at that thought, but didn't speak her mind. Perhaps later she could pull him aside and confront him about that. For now, she was starving. She hadn't had a chance to eat since lunch yesterday, and was more than ready to devour a whole chicken.

There was a copy of the Sunday Prophet dropped on her shortly after she sat down. With a glare to the owl, she untied it and took a look at the front page. The headline listed another slaughter of Muggles by Grindelwald. Tom looked over her shoulder and smirked a little, loading her plate for her.

“You know, it really is for the greater good, as he says.” his voice was matter-of-fact and nonchalant. One or two of the other boys nodded and murmured their agreement. Delaena looked at him with a raised eyebrow. “Oh?”

“Well, look at it. Look at how poorly we have been treated by them, and are still. They see us as freaks, when we're the ones who should make that judgement.” His voice was taking on a spiteful tone, one that she didn't much like. “His idea is to have the magic community reign over them. And we should! Those... things barely deserve to serve us.”

Linda was looking uncomfortable. “You know, they aren't all bad...” Tom shot her a look positively dripping with hate. The blonde shut her mouth quickly, focusing on her food.

Delaena was a little shocked. Tom set her plate down in front of her. “Eat,” he said, quietly. She obeyed without thinking. Sure, she wasn't overfond of muggles, but she didn't know how she felt about enslaving them. If anything, it was a waste of time. But genocide, the other option, left an equally bad taste in her mouth. She had never hated a single person enough to sincerely want them dead, much less an entire group of people. If they could cohabitate, that would be ideal. Of course, after hearing what Tom had just said, she figured she would keep that opinion to herself.

She ate in silence, and slowly tuned out the dull conversation of the other boys. Linda was back to her chipper self in no time, flirting outrageously with Malfoy, agreeing with everything he said. The two seemed to hit it off quite well. Delaena wondered how long it would be before Linda got bored of him, too. Actually, that thought was worrisome. If she did get tired of him and move on, it could provoke the rest of the group into leaping to his defence. She wasn't sure what that would mean, but Delaena could only assume the worst. These boys, from what she'd learned and seen over her years here, stuck by each other like glue. At least, they stuck to Tom. She wasn't actually sure just how loyal he was to them, or anyone other than the school and himself.

The rest of the Great Hall was fairly quiet. There was a dull rumble of chatter at the tables, and many of the students still looked sleepy. Delaena felt dreadful. She was tempted to go back to bed and try getting some real rest, but the odds of that succeeding, she suspected, were slim. She wasn't entirely sure she wanted to find out who that had been staring at her in her dreams.

When she'd cleared her plate, Delaena looked back at the group. “I think I might go out by the Lake,” she said, as much to herself as to the rest of them. Tom looked at her a moment and then nodded. “I'll see you in the common room tonight,” he said, and she heard the subtle command in his tone. “I'll come with you!” Linda chirped. “I'm sure you boys want to have some time to yourselves again.” She winked at Abraxas and joined Delaena's side. The two left the Great Hall and walked out into the watery sunlight. 

“So, over Charlie already?” Delaena teased. She looked at her friend who waved a hand dismissively. “Oh, that was just a one night date. It was never going to be a steady sort of thing. After all, he's a nice boy, but I couldn't exactly hold a conversation with him.”

“But you can with Malfoy?”

Linda grinned. “I'll hold more than his conversation,” she said in a hushed voice. Delaena's jaw dropped. “What?” Linda's voice took on a defensive tone. “He's gorgeous, and from a wealthy, high-class family. Fairly intelligent, or clever enough at least. He's not totally dull, I think.” 

“You've known him for two days!”

“No, Laena, I've known him for six years. We've only just had the chance to sit and talk like that over the last two days.” They neared the water, looking out over its glassy surface. It looked as cloudy as the sky.

“I wonder how the merfolk are,” Delaena mused aloud. Linda shrugged. “They don't bother us, we don't bother them. I'm sure they're enjoying their murky Sunday morning with... fish, or something.” The pair found a spot under a tree that was fairly dry, and sat down.

“So, you and Tom... Is it serious, do you think?” Linda's eyes twinkled. Delaena shrugged.

“I guess so. I mean, he calls me 'dear' and 'sweetheart'. I never really saw this coming, though.” She looked out over the lake, resting her chin on the heel of her hand.

“Well, you should be flattered. He is the most brilliant wizard of our time, so far, and you're the first woman he's shown interest in since he started here. Clearly, you're something special, Laenie.”

“Special?” She hadn't really thought of that. Aside from Divination, she was fairly average as far as her classes went. She wasn't particularly good at sports, and chess was too tactical for her. She was more the type to sit around with a book and a cup of tea for hours, just enjoying the warmth of a crackling fire.

Then again, she was, after all, a pureblood. He seemed to value that greatly. She was true to her house, too. Still, she couldn't quite place what made her stand above the rest. Perhaps he had a thing for redheads; she'd heard that from a few of the boys who'd been interested in her over the years.

“Well, whatever he thinks... I guess we might be going steady, pretty soon...” She wasn't entirely sure if that was how he planned things, but it certainly seemed to be the direction they were moving in. Especially since he'd had her and Linda infused in his little group. They were the first girls she'd seen with them, aside from a couple girlfriends of the other boys, whom Tom had always seemed to look upon with distaste. She'd often assumed he didn't much care for women. After all, some people were like that.

She leaned back against the trunk of the tree and turned her eyes upwards, looking at the branches. Most of the leaves had fallen months ago, and there was an abandoned robin's nest tucked away. It would be spring soon, she thought, and the trees and nests would be bright and lively again. She couldn't wait; winter always had her in a gloomy mood. 

“Do you know when the next trip to Hogsmeade is?” she asked Linda. “Isn't it Tuesday?” “Oh, good. I'd love a butterbeer right about now.” The truth was, she was running out of things to keep her mind busy while sitting around after classes. A trip away from the stone walls of the school would do her good, and she could get some shopping done, maybe mail off some money to her cousin for some more cigarettes. At the thought, she retrieved her pack, tossing one to her friend and tucking the other between her lips.

The smoke began creamy yellow, and smelled faintly of bananas. It wasn't her favourite flavour, but it would pass into something else quickly.

“What's this?”

Linda yelped and dropped her cigarette to the ground, quickly putting it out with her shoe. Delaena was slower to react, coughing and looking up at the speaker.

Tom glared at her, arms folded. “You know I have to report that.”

“Do you?” Linda cooed, immediately composed again. “After all, you and Laenie are steady, aren't you?”

“I'm not going to allow rulebreaking on behalf of our relationship.” Delaena raised an eyebrow. “Mister Head Boy, sir, have you never broken a rule?” The corner of his mouth twitched. “I learned from it, Miss Hartwood.” After a moment, he looked at the two of them. “Fine. But you,” he pointed at Delaena, “are in trouble.” The three of them laughed, and he turned his back. She put out her smoke and tucked the pack away back into her bag. He seemed to be his charming self again, much to her relief.

“Hey, Linda?”

“Mm?”

“If I buy you a pack, promise me we won't get caught again.”


End file.
